


always and evergreen

by cuddlebros



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hair Braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlebros/pseuds/cuddlebros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is her commander, of course, but he is her friend as well, and this is one of the places where the roles overlap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	always and evergreen

**Author's Note:**

> In which Adaar is strong and tired and Cullen is there to be leaned upon. Also, he's pretty good at hair. And I take some (a lot of) liberties with magic in DA.

He finds her in the war room. Of course he does, she’s barely left it for days. By the looks of it, she needs to. She’s staring through the war table, eyes unfocused, and the arm she’s leaning on looks about ready to give out. Grey hair lays dishevelled and limp over the shoulder of the same shirt she was wearing two days ago.

She doesn’t need him to worry for her. But being able to hold her own doesn’t mean that she should never have someone to lean on, and he knows how it feels to be in her place. So many times it’s been him there, so many times it’s been her at his elbow, taking some of the weight off of him no matter how much falls onto her; maybe this is the least he can do in return.

“Inquisitor,” he calls. He makes sure he closes the heavy doors behind him.

He could be more offended that her gaze doesn’t waver, but there is no space for bite in the exhaustion of her voice. “Commander.”

There is little to say in the dim stillness of the room. Pleas for her to find rest in her chambers have gone unheeded, and he has no desire to add to them. She will leave when she wills, when she can, and not a moment sooner.

“I was hoping you had the mind for some company, but I can leave if you would rather, Inquisitor.”

“Feel free to join me, Cullen, though I doubt I will be much in the way of company this evening,” she chuckles, weary crinkles forming at the folds of her eyes.

Cullen smiles at her, moves to stand opposite the windows and observes the table in front of them. Not much has moved since they last convened, but the reports that had been piling up on the side have all but disappeared. One of Josephine’s quills sits at the edge, and Adaars inky fingertips betray that she’s not as familiar with handling them as she could be.

He moves a few of his pieces, operations that he knows his forces have completed, but that isn’t why he’s here. A glance at Adaar’s face suggests that she knows that, too.

The words leave his mouth before he realises he’s offering; it’s not until Adaar questions him and he catches her eye that he realises he’s said anything at all.

“Well, that is - I grew up with sisters, and they often had me braid their hair. Not that I ever became brilliant at it,” he chuckles, “but I know that it can be tough to do when you’re exhausted. Sometimes they’d be asleep before half the braid was done and I - anyway, if you’d like, it would be a pleasure, Inquisitor.”

He’s not sure what he’s expecting. She will not ridicule him - she is too gentle for that. She will not soften her answer for him, though - she is too straight-forward for that.

Yet the Inquisitor is never one to fail to surprise, and so instead of rejecting his offer, she sends him a gentle smile and accepts it with quiet words and thankful eyes. More surprising still is that she follows him when he places his hand in the crook of her elbow and guides her towards the garden.

-

The moon hangs high over them, and the garden is empty, but the air is cool enough that the change shocks her regardless. Cullen watches as her eyes search wildly for a few seconds before settling on the gazebo. 

This is a place that she cultivates with her own hands, and the air still hums with a long-spun spell she and Solas had cast weeks ago. Cullen always expects that it will scratch at him under his skin, but her magic permeates the air like humidity, soft and nurturing and he allows it to feel good. Other templars - whether they were fighting addiction or not - frequent the garden as well; all of them manage to find equal content in it. Adaar is truly something special.

They pass the plants that thrive under her touch, and he sits her down in a patch of moonlight on the bottom step of the gazebo. It strikes her hair, a piece of that same moonlight made flesh.

Even sitting down, she is tall enough that he will have to stand for most of the braid, but that doesn’t bother him. He’s lucky that she hasn’t tangled her hair into a mess in her stress. The strands fall easily through his fingers like molten silver.

They sit in silence as Cullen sections and begins braids on her hair, for Cullen has few words left from the day and Adaar can think of nothing to say that is worth breaking the tranquillity of the night. Instead, she lets the feeling of life surround her, the plants breathing and the insects working so different to the feeling of thick stone enclosing her. It is exhausting, or it calls to attention her exhaustion, and the ghosts of Cullen's hand on her scalp every so often are all that keeps her from falling asleep in her place.

He works slowly at first, but only until the muscle memory kicks in - then he weaves her hair into two distinct braids quickly, close to the scalp but not so much that it will give her a headache. They are rugged, but have their own unique charm, and he’s sure the Inquisitor’s pillow will not care that the hair that lies upon it is not in it’s usual style.

She knows he has finished when he pats her on the shoulder, but she is not yet ready to move. He doesn’t protest when she pulls him to sit beside her, simply watches where she watches and tries to see what she sees. Truthfully, there is not much light around Skyhold at this hour, but her gaze has caught on a small pot, home to a struggling herb. The stem is wilting, the leaves browning. He knows she will use her magic to strengthen the little life, and braces himself for the discomfort of concentrated magic.

Instead, she rises and walks towards the pot, bending slightly to move it from the shadow of two of its larger neighbours. She finds a jug and the tank that stores the rainwater that trickles from the network of gutters around the fortress, and fills it. She sways in a way that says that her body disagrees with all of this movement, but pushes on to water the herb gently and mindfully, never giving more than it can take.

This small display of her practicality leaves Cullen virtually beaming.

She replaces the jug, and weaves her way back to him. He’s already waiting for her, pulling her arm across his shoulders and supporting her all the way back to her chambers. It’s all she can do to thank him. 

They make their way from the gardens, through Josephine’s study and into the main hall without incident. Only scouts and soldiers on rounds are awake, and they all nod to the pair as he steers her towards her chambers. Some of them smile or sigh in relief when they catch a glimpse of her, thankful to see their leader on her feet once more.

The steps towards her quarters take longer than the rest of the journey, but Cullen can’t hold it against her when her eyelids droop so heavily. By the time they reach her bed it’s a task in and of itself to drop her unceremoniously upon it. 

He stays long enough to make sure that she’s snoring, and dodges the squeaky step on his way back to his quarters. 

Quietly, he thanks Andraste for these smaller opportunities to support his leader.

**Author's Note:**

> There's not much to this other than i feel like Cullen would be good at braiding hair from growing up with his sisters, and that sometimes he likes to do little things for his friend (or his love? I don't know this can be read either way!). And that he appreciates all she does to make sure that everyone in Skyhold has the chance to have exposure to small amounts of gentle magic that they don't have to be afraid of.
> 
> Also that Adaar has a lot of respect for Cullen as a friend and as a commander and trusts him a lot. I guess?
> 
> This hasn't been beta'd, and I'm not very good at canon, so if you see anything glaringly awful or downright incorrect please don't hesitate to let me know!
> 
> Oh, and you can always scream at me at [cuddlebros.tumblr.com](http://cuddlebros.tumblr.com/)


End file.
